


Cast in Stone

by Oh_Toasty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cursed Stiles, Cursed Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magic bonds, Pack, Pack Dynamics, Pack Politics, Peter-centric, Sane Peter, Sane Peter Hale, Scars, Stiles was a statue, The Hale Fire, Young Peter, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 18:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6482491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Toasty/pseuds/Oh_Toasty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say fate is cast in stone. </p><p>Perhaps that's why, of all people, a young Peter Hale is the first to realize that the staute he sees is more than it appears. There's a man trapped inside, and Peter intends to free him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cast in Stone

Peter is six years old when his life really starts.

"Momma," Peter says staring up at his alpha. "Momma, what's that?"

"A statue, sweet heart," Brice replies looking down at her younger child.

"It's an art museum," Talia replies wrinkling her nose. "What did you expect?"

"Hush," Brice demands. "He's six, you're twenty-two, don't expect him to know what you do."

"He's being dumb," Talia answers, but Brice isn't paying attention to her any longer.

Now she focused on her younger child who stares up at the statue. His eyes are wide and she can hear the string of words tumbling out of his mouth.

"I'll help you get out. Later, when I'm big and strong."

Brice worries, but does nothing as Talia pulls them away grumbling, "Why did I come back after college?"

~~~~~~

He's seven when his mother is killed by hunters who spot her when Peter finally convinces Brice to take him back to the museum from a year ago.

Now, Peter is sitting at her funeral sniffling as he mourns his loss.

"Shut up Peter," Talia snarls and her voice is laced with alphapowercontrol.

Peter shuts up, but not because he wants to. Tears still drip down his face, but no sounds emerge from his as he curses Talia internally.

~~~~~~

Peter is sixteen when he finally works up enough courage to return to the museum.

Turning the corner, his eyes automatically flick towards the spot where his statue has always stood.

It isn't there.

Panic builds up in Peter's throat before he reminds himself it's been years, it's most likely just been moved about the museum.

It takes three hours, but Peter finds his statue.

Air returns to Peter's lungs as he gently runs a finger along the statues bicep.

"There you are." Peter whispers, "I'm sorry I've been away so long. I still haven't figured out how to rescue you, but I will."

~~~~~~

Peter is twenty the first time he is the one taking someone else to the museum. His niece, Laura, is thirteen and has a project for her art course. Talia, knowing that Peter spends time at the museum, offers her little brother to take her daughter and Peter reluctantly agrees.

"What should I base it all on Uncle Peter?" Laura asks.

A brief thought about his statue comes to mind, but he pushes it away because it's something he can't share with anyone.

Instead he leads Laura over to the Impressionism exhibit.

~~~~~~

He visits his statue once a week for the next five years. The days he isn't working on pack business, Peter researches his statue and looks for clues on how to free the boy he knows is trapped within.

Then, when he's twenty-five, his sixteen year old nephew falls in love with a hunter who burns Peter's world down around him. As he screams, trying to put out the fire that's eating him alive, Peter wonders who will free his statue man now.

~~~~~~

He awakens six years later and everything hurts. Not everything is physical though, there's also a gaping hole in his chest where his pack bonds should lay.

Peter is thirty-one when he wonders why he's alone.

It takes him almost a whole day to feel a faint connection and realizes he still has a faint bond to his statue man. It's like a dagger to the heart as Peter recognizes that the reason he's still sane isn't even his own family.

He wonders if they're dead.

~~~~~~

"Would you like to call you're niece?" His nurse asks, two months later when he's finally awake enough for conversation. Peter looks down the wheel chair he's situated in before making up his mind.

Peter shakes his head, "No, they don't care."

Peter waits till he's discharged from the hospital, and then goes straight to the museum. Once again it takes hours to find his statue, but once he does Peter smiles tiredly. His burns stretch and pull at the side of his face.

"Thank you," Peter says, "You're the only pack I have left."

That night he dreams:

_"Peter," his statue says an he starts because the voice is young, probably belonging to a teenager. "It's me, Stiles."_

_"Stiles," the name rolls off of his tongue, "Is that your name?"_

_"Yes," comes the prompt answer and Peter stares as these one behind to slough off of the statue revealing the boy trapped with in._

_"Hello there," Stiles smiles extending a hand, "It's nice to finally meet you."_

_"Why are we meeting," Peter wonders. "Why now, why like this?"_

_"Because," Stiles smiles and Peter is struck by his beauty. "You've started to break my curse."_

_"How?" Peter laughs, though there's no humor in his voice. "I'm broken Stiles. I can't even help myself, let alone another person."_

_"Peter," Stiles says gently, but then he's gone._

Peter awakens breath coming in shallow pants as he stares up at his ceiling and wants.

He wants Stiles like he always has, but there's new intensity to it. Because this, this is Stiles, not just his statue.

~~~~~~

It's a month later when Laura and Derek come to see Peter. He's grown bitter and angry as time passes with only one pack bond tethering him to sanity and so it isn't hard for Peter to ignore the two when he smells them outside his door. Briefly, Peter wonders when they had even realized he was out of his coma, but then he shoves those thoughts away and waits.

Eventually, the two wolves leave and Peter makes his escape. Wheeling himself down to the curb, Peter calls a taxi. Upon it's arrival, he pulls himself inside and waits for the cabbie to pass him his folded up wheelchair, then he states his destination.

The art museum.

"Please Stiles," Peter begs as he sits besides his statue in a room vacant if any other souls. "Please break free, I don't want to face them alone, they left me Stiles. They didn't even know about you, they would've left me a defenseless omega in a coma."

Peter is staring at his lap when a gentle voice washes over him, "Well Peter, it seems you needing me was enough to break the curse."

Peter looks up and the breath rushes out of him because Stiles is standing before him, made of flesh and bone.

"Stiles," Peter gasped an he doesn't even care about the amount of reverence he knows can be heard in his voice. "You're here."

"Of course I am," Stiles says grabbing Peter's chair and beginning to wheel him towards the exit. "You needed me."

~~~~~~

"I want to kill her," Peter admits. "I want to rip out her throat and take the alpha power. She doesn't deserve it, not if she thought it was acceptable to leave a pack mate like they did to me."

"What's stopping you?" Stiles asks from where he sits on the couch, pressed against Peter's side.

"She's family, so is Derek," Peter admits. "It means something, though I wouldn't hesitate to hurt them if they targeted you."

"Why?" Stiles wonders aloud, "How would that change your resolve?"

"They're family," Peter states firmly, "But you, you're _**pack**_."

Stiles looks at Peter, amazement shining in through his eyes, before he lunges forwards to press gentle lips against burnt, scarred ones.

~~~~~~

"Peter," Laura calls from her position outside his apartment door. "Let us in."

Eyes flashing and claws emerging, Peter glares at the door. He doesn't want to answer to them, allow them to see his burnt weakened state.

"I'll get it," Stiles reassures him and Peter wheels out of view as Stiles swings the door open.

"Peter-" Derek cuts himself off as he stares at the boy before him, "You aren't Peter."

"No," Stiles smirks, "I'm not. A plus on your observation skills."

"Where's our uncle?" Laura asks attempting to shove past Stiles. He stops in shock as realizes even with her werewolf strength she can't move the human boy.

"Would you look at that?" Stiles muses looking down at his planted feet. "I still seem to retain some of the better qualities of being stone. People can't push me around these days."

"Who are you?" Derek wonders, a growl permeating his words.

Stiles smile only grows, "Your uncle's pack mate."

"Please," Laura snorts. "If Uncle Peter has any pack, it's us!"

That, Peter decides, is the last straw. With a quiet snarl, he wheels himself into view of his niece and nephew.

"No children," Peter answers. "That would be where you're wrong, I'm not your pack. Which really, is all your fault. Surely you didn't expect me to come crawling back to you after finding myself alone in a hospital with no pack bonds."

Derek opens a mouth to defend himself, but Peter stops him with a few brutal words.

"Except I had one pack bond, one person, who wasn't in my family had the decency not to cut me away from the pack. Despite his own difficulties, _Stiles_ stood by my side."

"We're sorry," Derek says eyes tracing over his uncle's burnt visage. "We should have been there."

"Yes," Peter agrees, "You should have been."

Then he wheels away, not bothering to listen as Stiles ensures they leave; he knows the other man is in control of the situation.

"Thank you," Peter murmurs when a stone cold hand comes to rest on his neck and Stiles presses his body against the back of the wheel chair.

"Anytime," Stiles promises as he presses a feather soft kiss to the top of Peter's head. "Whatever you need."


End file.
